


Saint Bernard

by swaybackgriefer



Series: Bastards In The Woods [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Arguing, Be gentle, F/F, F/M, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, M/M, Multi, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Nature Magic, Necromancy, Other, Pixies, Someone dies, Temper Tantrums, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, baby's first non-binary character, it's all good, it's fine, the pixie has one, this particular pixie is his own breed of asshole and it's very clear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23764471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swaybackgriefer/pseuds/swaybackgriefer
Summary: inspired by 'saint bernard' by lincoln-The house felt empty, but that was a good thing, apparently.There was certainly something missing, but the other occupants of the house never said anything about it, so neither did she. Turning over the events of the last few months in her mind, she summoned a small ball of fire and watched it flicker lazily in the palm of her hand.Breaking the silence, a gunshot echoed through the canyon, and she flinched, thrown into her memories.-
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Bastards In The Woods [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1712002
Kudos: 1





	Saint Bernard

The house felt empty, but that was a good thing, apparently.

There was certainly something missing, but the other occupants of the house never said anything about it, so neither did she. Turning over the events of the last few months in her mind, she summoned a small ball of fire and watched it flicker lazily in the palm of her hand.

Breaking the silence, a gunshot echoed through the canyon, and she flinched, thrown into her memories.

-  
_  
Everything was wrong. Hop's eyes shone red as they sat glowering in the embers of a fire that should've been cold and dark- nobody had lit it in the first place, since it was only the start of August. It just seemed to catch from the sheer force of the shapeshifter's anger. But it wasn't out yet; heat came off of the fireplace (and Hop) in waves, and nobody dared to get close enough to them to feel the burn on their skin._

_Everyone was angry, so everyone had gone off to their own spaces, including Shiryn. She was pacing back and forth in her room, conjuring tiny spheres of water and making them dance in the air. It always helped calm her down, making the water dance; she had to focus entirely on each little ball in order to keep them from breaking and soaking into her carpet. Shiryn tried to summon some fire to make the water spheres into steam, but she barely managed a tiny spark before yelling erupted downstairs, and she could clearly hear Hopper swearing angrily at whoever had pissed them off again. Sighing, she let the water bubbles hit her floor, and made her way down the stairs._

_There, in the middle of the den, stands a pissed off, dripping wet, glowering Hop, their eyes trained on Maverick. The pixie in question is holding a large bucket, and after a few seconds (and a glance at the now-black fireplace), Shiryn let her head drop and she squeezes the bridge of her nose._

_"Maverick, why? You knew they were mad."_

_"They needed to cool off, obviously."_

_His tone was tinged with fear, but he smirked like he was getting the exact reaction he wanted out of Hop, whose breathing had picked up considerably, nostrils flaring and eyes now an even angrier shade of red, if that was even possible. She swore that she saw the ends of her best friend's fingers morphing into deadly sharp claws, but it was hard to tell with the shapeshifter's hands clenched into tight fists at their sides._

_Heavy, terse, angry silence filled the air for a few moments until the rest of the household arrived, and eight new pairs of eyes observed the sheer fury radiating off of Hop, and then the smug look on Maverick's face before settling on the now-cold fireplace._

_"Hop-" Rose began, taking half a step towards them before Hop's wrath-filled gaze settles entirely on her._

_"Hop what, Rose? Hop, don't freak out, Hop, don't get mad, Hop, it's just a joke," The shapeshifter mocks bitterly, taking a couple strides forward and getting in Rose's face, their own expression twisted into a snarl, pointed canines and all. "Does nobody here realize that sometimes, people want to be alone? Especially when some of you have made that person's life hell over the past few days?" Their voice lowered into a growl, something it only did when they were very, very angry. "Does nobody realize that not everything is a game?" They bellowed, and all Rose could do was let out a tiny noise that resembled 'meep' before Maverick shoved his way in between them, one arm curling backwards to shuffle his girlfriend behind him._

_"Don't you realize that your temper is annoying? We all want to relax after something stressful happens, but when we try to make it lighthearted you're always so dark and angry-looking that you kill the mood!" He objected, apparently feeling brave enough to take a few steps towards Hop._

_Bad idea._

_The revolver that the shapeshifter kept on them at all times was, in all honesty, unnecessary; Hop felt it was important, though, and if it made them feel safer to have a gun tucked into the back of their pants, they'd damn well keep a gun tucked into the back of their pants._

_Now, though, they had it loaded and levelled an inch from Maverick's face faster than he could blink, crimson eyes hardened and zeroed in on her adversary. A blanket of silence fell over the room once again. The hammer, guided by their thumb, pulled back with a click that held finality. Their pointer finger curled around the trigger._

_And then the room exploded._

_Angel leapt towards Hop, wings fanning out to protect Maverick and the others while she attempted to tackle her friend; PT and Shiryn each grabbed one of Hop's arms, scrambling for the revolver, but the shapeshifter's gaze stayed locked on the pixie and they didn't even flinch as they pulled the trigger._

_Luckily for Maverick, Clark had tackled him out of the way just in time for the bullet to miss his head and instead bury itself snugly in the pixie's side. Blood poured everywhere, and a sickening, wet wheezing noise was accompanying Maverick's now-ragged breaths. The blond screamed, pain overwhelming him._

_"Call the doctor, tell him it's an emergency! Now!" Roared Mat, darting into the next room to grab what he could to perform a field chest tube. When he returned, he looked dead into Hop's cold, hard eyes, his expression the epitome of grave. "You better not have killed him, Hopper, or so help me I will pour the hemlock myself."_

_Rose lost her self-control in that moment, sprouting her signature manticore claws and poison tail before slashing at Hop's face and throat. From the blood and the pained grunt that escaped the shapeshifter, Rose got in a few good shots at their face and neck, and managed to get one decently painful stab into their side before the other came to her senses and stepped back in horror of what she'd done. When the ambulance came, the boys (sans Mat) refused to let the emergency personnel take them with Maverick. Instead, as soon as most of the house set off after the emergency vehicle, PT called in a favour from friend who brought his herbs and a suture kit; after knocking Hop out, the healer sewed them up the best he could, packing the poisonous stab wound with some strong herbs and, after they woke up, offered them a salve for the scars. They refused, seemingly calmer, but their eyes still remained red._

_As soon as Maverick was stable at the specialty creature hospital a few hundred miles away, the group (sans shapeshifter, who was handcuffed to one of the Damascus steel poles on their property) decided that Hop was no longer welcome at their home, on their property, or in their lives. Shiryn and PT were the only ones who voted to let them stay._

_Hop was arrested for attempted murder and sent to a maximum-security prison in Ohio the next day._  
  
-

There was a hand on her shoulder, and it jerked Shiryn out of her own head and back into the present, where Mat was looking at her with concern in his eyes. "Are you alright?" He asked gently, taking a seat in the grass in front of her. She grunted.

"You want the answer you wanna hear, or the truth?"

Mat snorted quietly, hanging his head for just a moment before looking back at his girlfriend, a hint of a smile ghosting over his lips. "You want me to say that I want the truth, but I don't quite know if I do. But, go ahead, speak your mind, hon."

The elemental's eyes began to water, much to her dismay, and she pressed her knuckles against her eyelids before she spoke, voice shaky and filled with sadness.

"I'm just... I don't know what to do with myself, honestly. Everybody seems to be moving on, to keep living their lives like nothing happened, and I just can't see why! Hop was an important part of this group, this circle, this family, damn it, and nobody has even said their name since they got arrested! I haven't heard from my best friend, my partner in crime, in months, Mathew. Months. What if they're dead? What if they died in prison and nobody told us? What if they're being beaten or raped or tortured by the other inmates and there's nobody there for them? We don't even know what prison they're at! I want to go visit them, but Rose won't tell me where they're being held! They might not even be in Ohio anymore!"

Her chest was heaving, tears spilling down her face freely now, and Mat's amber eyes were damp now, too. He just pulled Shiryn into his lap, wrapping one arm around her and running the fingertips of the other hand up and down her spine, whispering to her and trying to calm her down.

"Shiryn, honey, I know you're upset, and that's okay. I am, PT is, her cousin is, too, now that word's reached her. You are not alone in this feeling. But, baby, think about it like this: the police don't know that they're a shapeshifter, or that they're incredibly stubborn. They won't allow themself to be beaten or attacked while they're inside- if they haven't escaped already- because Hopper is strong and, if anything, would probably lead a prison riot before letting anyone hurt them. I'm sure we'll hear from them eventually. I'll get in touch with Eden and ask him to visit one of their dreams so we can glean some information, okay?"

Shiryn sniffled, nodding into Mat's chest before he scooped her up bridal style and carried her back from the far fields of tall, waving grass to the house. The empty, wrong-feeling, Hop-less house.

-

Several months later, Shiryn, PT, and Angel found themselves at the local mythos-friendly tavern. All of them had had more than their fair share of drinks, and they were drunkenly chatting about one thing or another when PT's expression darkened suddenly. When asked what was wrong, her tone was somber, not slurring or stumbling over her words at all.

"It's been thirteen months, three weeks, and five days since we've heard from Hop."

"That's long enough for them to have had a baby!" Giggled Shiryn. 

They were drunk.

Mat strolled into the bar a few minutes later, having decided that the girls were most likely thoroughly wasted by now and that there was no way he was letting them drive themselves home. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his corduroy jacket, horns hidden under a beanie and hooves snugly in the fake feet that were wearing converse. The nippy September weather in North Dakota was starting to set in, and the girls hadn't thought to bring jackets, either, and so there were a plethora of blankets waiting for them in the car.

"Alright ladies, it's time to go."

"But Mat..." Shiryn whined, drawing out her boyfriend's name and slurring drunkenly, "We haven't been here that long!"

Mat sighed lightly, closing his eyes for a moment.

"You guys left at four, it's almost nine. The sun is setting, it's time to go home."

Reluctantly, the three drunk women stood, teetered, and stumbled their way to the car with Mat's help. After making sure that all three of them had their seatbelts on (Toddlers, Mat thought, it's like three drunk toddlers), Mat slid into the driver's seat and started the ignition, much to the glee of the girls.

The ride home was filled with drunk sing-alongs to the radio, slurred stories, and raucous laughter from the three girls. Their chauffeur was seemingly along for the ride and had no part in any of it; driving in the dark was already difficult for him, but driving in the dark while three women try their best to distract you whilst drunk and burritoed in blankets was even harder.

Luckily, twenty minutes later Mat was pulling onto the dirt road that led to their property, but something was off.

There was a huge black dog sitting at the top of the hill next to the garage door.

"Puppy!" Squealed PT, tumbling out of the car before Mat had even stopped and making a beeline for the animal. The faun threw his car into park, not even caring about the transmission because that was a stray dog and what if it bit someone or had rabies?

"PT! No, don't touch the- oh, dammit."

Too late. The girl had dug her fingers into the thick fur of the dog, which Mat had now identified as a larger-than-normal Saint Bernard, if the dog's deep 'boof' and face was anything to go by. But something was definitely weird about the thing. It, for one, was way too big to be any kind of normal animal, its eyes looked rather human, and they were a deep scarlet colour.

A rather familiar deep scarlet colour. And, looking closer, he could see that half of its face was covered in scars; more investigating also yielded a huge scar on its side.

"Hopper?" Mat's jaw dropped in disbelief, the dog seemed to grin. Its tail started wagging incessantly, and it let out a series of baritone barks that made the lights flick on in a few rooms upstairs. "Alright bud, shush, you woke up Mav and Rose!"

With that, the Saint Bernard growled, and its eyes flashed a brighter red.

"Okay, no, none of that. Listen, we're gonna take you inside and pretend that you're a stray we found. You are not to change back into a human until we're in my room. Got it?"

Mat swore the dog nodded as it gave a small 'boof', but that could be his imagination. It stood and trotted off, leaving him confused for a few moments until it returned with a length of rope in its mouth. "I see you still know where the shed is. Mind turning into something less terrifying?"

He blinked, and the Saint Bernard had turned into a solid black German Shepherd, ears pricked and swiveled in Mat's direction. Its eyes turned a much less intimidating gold colour, still too bright and human-like, but otherwise closely resembling a normal dog's. "Better." He stated firmly, and wrapped a loop of rope around the beast's thick neck, tying it off and then leading the dog up the pavement and inside. Mat instructed it to sit and stay, then helping each of the girls to their respective rooms. The faun whistled once he was in front of his own door, and he could hear the dog's nails clicking on the hardwood as it climbed the stairs, and it rounded the corner and bounded towards Mat with mirth in its eyes. "Oh, get inside, you goof." He chuckled, letting the German Shepherd into his room before closing the door behind them. It did that full-body shiver thing, shaking the rope loop off from around her neck; a chuff came from its mouth before it yawned, showing off the pointed teeth- one of its canines was cracked, Mat noticed, but didn't get a chance to move closer before a horrible noise filled the air. Bones, crunching and rubbing against one another as they rearranged themselves from dog to human, and Hopper's noise of relief when they finally stood upright was a sound that punched Mat in the gut. He felt terrible for not telling the girls where their friend was hiding, but it was for their own safety.

"Oh, it's so nice to be human again!" They groaned, flexing their fingers and rolling their shoulders. "I've been sticking to that Saint Bernard form for the last, like, seven months. It's less conspicuous, you know, a shaggy stray dog rather than a scarred-up, red-eyed person in a black jumpsuit." Hop's voice was rough, scratchy, probably from not being used in ages. But it still made Mat's heart swell; their friend was finally back, they all knew they were safe, and they could hide out here until everything blew over. The shapeshifter, though, just kept stretching, this time popping their neck and cracking their knuckles while the faun got lost in his head. Mat snapped out of it after a few seconds, though, when Hop reached out and pulled him into a bear hug, his taller stature not deterring them at all. He chuckled, returning the ferocity of the hug. "We missed you too, you know. There's so much we have to catch you up on; you missed fourteen months of craziness, and once the other three's healing factors kick in they'll be super excited to see you, too!"

At that moment, the door flew open and Shiryn came running in.

"Mat! Where's that dog? I want to pet- Hopper?!"

The elemental's jaw dropped, and she stood, frozen, for a few seconds until she took one or two tentative steps forward, raising her hands and running her fingertips over the scars on Hop's face and throat before yanking the taller being into a fierce hug. Muffled sobs mixed with golden, happy laughter bubbled out from between them, only stopping when PT and Clark came bursting into the room, looking like they were going to scream from sheer joy. Thankfully, Shiryn had already let go of Hopper and, when the other two walked in, cast a soundproof air bubble around the five of them so the rest of the house wouldn't know what was happening. All of them were talking loudly, overwhelmed with happiness- causing Mat to cover his sensitive ears- but he was fine with it regardless because Hop was back.

After everyone settled down quite some time later- and Hop had dug out their old red hoodie and tattered jeans from a box in Mat's closet- everybody wanted to hear where their shapeshifter had been and fill her in on what they'd missed.

"I'll go first, I guess," Hopper began, seated on Mat's desk chair with a tumbler of whiskey in their hand, ice cubes clinking against the glass as they leaned back. "Well, the human police they called on me put me in a holding cell at the courthouse, and I was found guilty of attempted murder at my trial- the jury voted 7-5, though, so I had hope that I could appeal, but since my stupid cheap human lawyer couldn't know about the supernatural community, so I couldn't say, 'Hey, the pixie pissed off an angry shapeshifter and they happened to go into berserker mode' without pleading insanity, I had to let them put me in solitary. It was fine, I guess, but after a few days I got bored and shifted into a rat so I could escape. Took me a few days, since, you know, rat legs are way shorter than human legs; once I was out, I called in a few favors and got in touch with a healer I knew in New York, and she came down to collect me and help that blasted poison from Rose's barb get out of my system- I was in pretty bad shape, and I actually died."

Right there, they stopped, taking a deep breath and a long sip of whiskey before continuing.

"So, I was dead for a few days, got stuck in purgatory because the waiting line for hell was backed up, then woke up on a metal table in the healer's basement Frankenstein-style. She informed me that my wounds would, in fact, heal into scars, but she for some reason couldn't get my eyes to change back. I can still shift them, as Mat saw earlier, but my natural eye colour is stuck as red." Hopper's northern accent was starting to kick back in as they drank, but in a few minutes their system's healing factor would kick into gear and they'd be back to their normal mishmash of northern and southern dialect.

"But yeah. So I stayed with her for a few weeks, going bonkers from not being allowed to do anything besides stare at a wall or sleep, then skedaddled as soon as she said I was all healed up. Spent a month or three as a blue tiger in the forests of New Hampshire, freaking out the locals and having a blast eating deer. Oh, and then I spent a week as Mothman with the real Mothman, so if you see some pictures floating around the internet it's the two of us messing with the locals. So, by this point, I've been away from y'all for seven months and I'm starting to really miss being around everyone, even the pixie. Plus, drinking by yourself is only fun for so long. So, I think to myself, 'Ay, self, we should get in contact with someone'. I show up on Eden's doorstep back in North Carolina at, like, three in the morning, freak him out with the red eyes for kicks, then shift them to green and ask him if he can get in touch with one of you four, and he managed to get a hold of Mat."

Shiryn, at this point, gives her boyfriend a scalding look that seethes with one message: we'll talk about this later. Unsurprisingly, Mat was now terrified; there was nothing scarier than when the elemental got mad, except for when Hop got mad.

"I stayed with Eden for two weeks, much to his displeasure, and he threatened to call Maverick or Rose to come get me several times. But, eh, I think he didn't mind as much as he acted like he did. Anyways, so we're in month eight or so of my absence, and Eden, being Eden, decided that he'd had enough of my angry blathering one day, waited until I shifted back into the Saint Bernard and put some sleep-inducing herbs in my water. He, not being a healer, got the amount very, very wrong, and then I slept for a month and a half. Joke's on him, though, 'cause I snore as a dog and I was in such a deep sleep that he couldn't even visit my dreams to tell me to shut up!" The shapeshifter chuckled, taking another sip of their alcohol before continuing.

"Then I spent the last three and a half-ish months traveling back here, meeting other supernaturals, getting in fights, and drinking heavily to test just how much B.S. my healing factor will put up with. On the bright side, I'm no longer dead nor do I have any more scars than when I left!" And with that, they relaxed into the chair, closing their eyes for a moment. The shapeshifter subconsciously ran their fingertips along one of the thickest scars that ran from their cheekbone to the opposite jaw. Shiryn opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, feet hit the floor with a thud from the floor above them, and then, moments later, those same feet coming down the stairs. Hopper turned into a huge Great Dane, this time a solid white one, eyes unfocused and pale blue; blind. As soon as they'd hopped up onto Mat's bed and plopped down with a huff, the door opened to reveal a sleepy, bloodshot-eyed Maverick, hair wilder than the look in his eyes as his wings twitched involuntarily.

"Oh, hey Mav, nice of you to stop by." Greets Angel, voice laden with sarcasm. The pixie's eyes land on the dog and his gaze narrows. "I thought I heard a dog bark earlier. Mat, what is that- that- thing doing in the house?"

Mat gives his aggravated roommate a relaxed smile, reaching out and rubbing the dog between its ears, and it jumps as he does so. Huh, he thinks, Hopper must actually be blind right now. "She is a Great Dane we found wandering outside the house- on the driveway, actually, and since she's blind I felt bad about leaving her out there so we brought her inside."

Maverick huffed, and rolled his eyes. The dog- Hop- started growling when the pixie got close to them (Maverick didn't jump, he absolutely did not and will maintain that), but Shiryn discreetly flicked their flank and they stopped, allowing Maverick to pet them briefly. When the blonde left, the whole room seemed to release a breath it had been holding. The Great Dane hopped off the bed and turned back into Hopper, who started laughing quietly as soon as their voice box was functioning properly again. "Did you hear him jump when I started growling? Oh my goodness, that was amazing, I may have been blind but I wasn't deaf!"

The other four laughed along with them, each bidding Hop goodnight in turn before returning to their own rooms. Mat walked them to their old room, which was in the basement; the door released a puff of dust when it was opened, and the shapeshifter was smiling so wide that Mat was surprised their face didn't split. Before they descended the stairs, their expression became serious for a moment as they addressed the faun.

"If anyone asks, you put the dog in the basement because it was being too whiny upstairs. Good?"

Mat grinned. "Good."

-

The next morning, Shiryn wandered downstairs and opened the basement door, going to fetch Hopper and guide them around while they were a blind, blundering Great Dane. The elemental whistled, and she heard the click of nails on the concrete before the dog rounded the corner, stumbling over its giant paws for a second before coming up the stairs, eyes red instead of the unfocused blue that meant Hopper being blind. Its giant tail was wagging so hard that the whole back half of its body was wiggling, too, and Shiryn chuckled lightly before resting one hand on the back of the dog's neck and guiding it into the kitchen, knowing full well Hop could see- it was just in case anybody else was in the kitchen.

"Morning, PT!" Shiryn greeted cheerfully, letting go of the dog so that Hop could 'greet' their friend, too. Pouring herself a cup of coffee, the two of them chittered about random things whilst Hopper lay down in one corner of the kitchen, eyes shifted to the pale blue ones. 

Their plan seemed to be going well; Hopper was back with everyone else, albeit as a dog, and none of the rest of their friends had noticed that the Great Dane in the kitchen was not, in fact, a Great Dane. 

All was great until Maverick stormed into the kitchen dramatically, cocking the hunting rifle in his hands. 

"Alright, I know that bastard is in the house. One of you will tell me where you're hiding them, or I will shoot someone."

Rose, who had never seen this side of her boyfriend before, rose from the table slowly, hands in the air to show him that she wasn't armed. 

"Mav, babe, please. Put the gun down."

"No!" He bellowed, whirling around to point the rifle at Hop, who had pulled their jowls back and was now open-mouth snarling at the pixie. Slowly, the pale blue blind-eyes of the Great Dane gave way to the familiar deep crimson irises of the shapeshifter, and they burned with an unimaginable rage. The sound of cracking bones filled the early morning air, and in a few seconds, a pissed-off Hopper stood on the linoleum, clad only in their pitch-black second-skin. 

"You." Maverick growled, taking a step back. 

Hop smiled at him, but there was no mirth in their eyes. Only a detached coldness, not unlike what one would expect from a serial killer, occupied the shapeshifter's gaze. They took a step forward. 

"Maverick, Maverick, Maverick," They mused, canines lengthening as they spoke. "How nice to see you again."

"W-we banned you from this property, Hopper. I can call the cops right now and get you thrown back in prison."

"For what, Maverick? For returning to this house? I own this whole valley, in case you forgot. Who's trespassing now, pixie?" Hopper taunted, holding eye contact. They noted that his hands were beginning to shake; it seems he hadn't expected a fight, and especially not one with a completely unhinged adversary. The shapeshifter took another step forward. 

Suddenly, Maverick's gaze hardened, and he stopped shaking. 

"One more inch and I'll shoot. These bullets are laced with enough manticore venom to put down an adult dragon. Surely you'll stay dead this time, eh, Hopper?"

"You amaze me with your bravado, Maverick, you really do."

Confusion washed over the pixie's face for a moment, but his mask of determination quickly slid back into place. Hop saw his finger curling around the trigger, saw the wash of calm come over Maverick like it always did right before he shot a deer. 

Well, Hopper was no deer. 

They saw Clark lunge towards Maverick, a needle containing strong sedatives clutched in his fist, and knew it was now or never. 

Hop crouched low and swept their foot out, catching Maverick behind his locked knee and buckling his stance. The gun clattered to the floor, and Hopper snatched it off the linoleum before the pixie could grab it. 

A grunt sounded from above the shapeshifter, and they looked up to see Clark, who had seemingly jammed the syringe into the crook of the pixies neck and was now holding Maverick's arms behind his back, essentially immobilizing him as the drugs took effect. 

The rest of the group, who had all been in some state of running towards the scuffle, were now frozen where they stood, staring at Hopper, whose chest was heaving and whose eyes boasted vermilion hue of triumph. 

"And that's why you don't point a gun at my friends, you bastard!"

-

When Maverick came to, he was handcuffed to one of the Damascus steel poles in the vast backyard. 

He heard someone clear their throat from somewhere above him, and he lifted his gaze to find a smug-looking Hopper perched on the broad top of the pole next to the one he was bound to. 

"Hey there, sleeping beauty."

When he gave no response, he heard Hop tut from their position high above him. 

"Aw, come on, you grumpy bastard, don't you want to spit some venomous remark at lil' old me?"

Again, Maverick refused to give them the satisfaction of riling him up, as much as he wanted to snap at the shapeshifter. The pixie closed his eyes, feeling them burn and relishing in the pain. 

He was momentarily startled when a hard thump sounded to his immediate right, but he quickly surmised that Hopper had dropped to the ground wearing those stupid steel-toed work boots that always alerted everybody to their presence. 

"Well, this is your last chance to grace me with your lovely voice, because a supernatural task force is coming to escort you away in a few minutes."

Maverick grunted in response. 

"Whatever you say, Mav. See you in a century!" 

And with that, Hopper turned and walked into the house, aiding their friends in cleaning the kitchen.


End file.
